


Overpass

by subernabur



Series: Ghost!Tommy [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Ghost!Tommy, Memory Loss, Puffy is a great mom even when her son doesn't remember her, Stress Baking, brainrot, phantommy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 06:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30118656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subernabur/pseuds/subernabur
Summary: Puffy gets stressed and Tommy is clueless.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit
Series: Ghost!Tommy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213688
Kudos: 97





	Overpass

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of a series! I would suggest you go read the first few stories so this one makes sense. Or don't, I can't control you.

Tommy is dead.

Well, more accurately, he’s a ghost.

And ghosts don’t sleep.

He’s floating just over the glass that covers the wreckage of L’manberg, staring down at it. He can see the red vines slowly making their way across the bedrock, and he internally curses that stupid egg. It never did anything good for anyone, for goodness sake it made Tubbo cry!

Wait. Why did he care about Tubbo again? No, he didn’t. But either way the Egg wasn’t good for anyone. Unless they wanted to make Tubbo cry. 

He pushed his face up to the glass, putting effort into making his hands corporeal so he could lean against it. He wouldn’t say he missed L’manberg, what with the way Wilbur was, but it was still nostalgic. 

Dream was the only one he could trust right now. After all, he was there for him during exile. And sure, he killed him, but honestly he liked being a ghost better. It was hard to pick stuff up and rain kinda melted him, but hey, at least he didn’t have to worry about fighting with everyone anymore. 

It was past midnight, close to two in the morning according to the moon, though Tommy was always trash at telling time. He wonders if Dream has dreams, and what he dreams about, chuckling to himself. A dream inside a dream inside a dream inside Dream. 

He walks away from the crater, climbing up the dirt mounds and ignoring whenever his feet seemed to sink a few inches into the ground. He huffed out a breath in mock exhaustion as he got back to flat ground, glancing at the prime path. Dream said he should avoid being seen, but everyone was asleep by now, most definitely. 

So he climbed up onto the prime path, grinning. This seemed to be one of the few good memories he had from his time alive, and his face lit up as he walked down it. He hopped down the path, feeling nostalgic yet again, but this time without the bitter undertone.

Tommy slowed as the prison entered his view, glancing at it. The building made his entire body shake, and he had to put effort into keeping his form from dissolving. He was glad he was a ghost, never having to worry about being trapped in one place ever again. His mind flashed back to exile and he grimaced, knowing that Tubbo was the reason he went through that.

Nobody even visited him in exile. Dream protected him from them, knowing that every second they spent there would be filled with pity, and he did  _ not _ want their pity, but maybe it would have been better if Dream had still let them visit…? Or, maybe they could have just  _ not _ exiled him! What an idea!

He growled to himself, feeling his form become unstable. He didn’t want to feel these emotions anymore, he was DEAD. He tried to make his fists tight but his fingers went through his palm. Tommy’s train of thought stopped in its tracks and he focused on regaining his body, sighing as he felt the solid platform of wood underneath him.

Emotions were good for no one, he decided. Especially not him, since every time he got especially emotional his entire body started dissolving. One of the many ‘perks’ of being a ghost. 

He sat there for a while, his mind blank with static as he watched the sky slowly turn from black to navy to blue. The stars slowly disappeared and Tommy just watched as they faded away into the distance, hugging his legs to his chest. It took a while for his mind to finally realize that the sky changing colors meant it was  _ day _ , and day meant people, and Dream said people were bad.

But he stayed there, still watching the sky get lighter and lighter as the sun rose behind him. He wished he could feel the heat from the sun on his back, but he didn’t even cast a shadow. So he imagined what it felt like, but nothing quite seemed to fit with the half-existing memories he had hidden somewhere in his head.

He cursed his memories, wishing he could just  _ remember _ what was so important. Even now he felt details slipping away, and he hugged his knees tighter. At least he had Dream to help him, at least he could trust him—

“Tommy?” A quiet voice asked, and the ghost whirled around, staring at a sheep hybrid. She stood still as a statue, eyes wide and horrified. “Oh, no, no, Tommy—”

Tommy stood up and took a few steps back, hands held up. “I don’t know you. How do you know me? How do you—” Tommy’s breath hitched even though he didn’t even need to breathe. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and his foot went an inch too deep into the wood.

“Tommy, it’s me, Puffy.” The sheep hybrid held out her hands, showing that they were empty. “Do you remember me?”

Tommy closed his eyes, and he couldn’t remember her, her couldn’t—

_ Puffy ruffled his hair and gave him another cupcake, an honest smile on her face, so unlike anyone else’s.  _

She was a stranger.

_ The hybrid let Tommy cry into her shoulder, hugging him tight while glancing over Logstedshire. She tried to ignore the tower of dirt that stretched far too high into the sky. _

Dream is the only one he could trust.

_ Tommy chuckled as he threw another handful of flour at Puffy, the white powder flying through the air and barely reaching her across the small kitchen. She yelped in surprise and quickly retaliated by throwing some flour in return, a devilish grin on her face. _

Tommy’s breaths shook and he hadn’t even realized Puffy had stopped approaching, shoving his face in between his knees and hyperventilating, eyes glazed over as he relived memories he didn’t have.

He was brought out of his frozen state by a gentle hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing in order to ground him in reality. His eyes snapped up to see Puffy, and she smiled softly despite the wetness in her eyes. 

“Tommy,” she whispered, “it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright if you don’t remember me.”

Tommy nodded, slightly relaxing. “‘M sorry for freaking out.” He said, wiping away his tears. “Kinda stupid, to have a panic attack just cause I saw someone—”

“It’s okay, I surprised you and you’re probably really overwhelmed.” Puffy said. “We can go to my house, that way you don’t have to worry about more people.”

Tommy nodded, leaning into Puffy and putting every ounce of effort he had left (it wasn’t much) into leaning into her, feeling the soft hair-like wool she had and smiling.

He stumbled suddenly, his foot sinking into the wood of the prime path and he fell face first. Tommy grunted, pulling it up with some effort before gently placing it back down, testing his weight on it. He glanced behind him, Puffy just watching patiently without any judgement. He took her hand, feeling the small hooves she had instead of fingers.

Suddenly, Tommy found himself wishing he wasn’t dead.


End file.
